The day Santa was Busted: Should I Exchange or give him the gift anyway?

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Santa was nearly busted in our house yesterday. After realizing I was officially flying by the seat of my Christmas pants, 9 days out and only having  purchased a money tin and some slime, panic officially set in.

My husband arrived home early for the first time in months so I jumped into the car and raced to the shops to at least get the main presents for my two boys. I managed to chuck a few other things in the trolley and set off home again. Proud of my fruitful and sneaky shopping venture I walked through the font door with a smugness ( because nothing  can be sneaky when you have 3 children, if i’m caught in the shower alone I am glared at like I have cheated on them).

I warned my husband not to let the kids go to the car as the haul was in the back seat. Not quite sure why I said that as they wouldn’t normally go to the car alone anyway. But there’s a first day for everything! An hour later after discovering the front passenger door wide open my stomach dropped to the floor. One of the kids had been into the car, and I knew immediately it was my eldest, sneakiest son who had been snooping. I knew he would have seen the lot. After some questioning he admitted to ‘just seeing the nerf guns’- so obviously he had also seen the two scooters from Santa right next to the guns too. My heart sank. The boys had only the day before asked Santa for the scooters and here I was with 2 in the back seat. I was so upset thinking he had uncovered the secret at the age of 6. I nearly cried.

So here I am  9 days out wondering what to do. Obviously I have to now say that Santa wasn’t bringing scooters because he noticed mummy had bought them but I’m faced with one of those motherly moments where you know you should teach your child a life lesson. Should I return the scooter that he saw and getting something else? or continue to give it to him on Christmas Day knowing he will not be surprised? I just don’t know what to do with this one…should I teach him a lesson or is the lesson going to be about letting him spoil his own surprise?

I have spoken to a few different people but everyone had a different opinion on what was the best thing to do.

So What would you experienced mummies do?

 

 

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‘Old Year Reminders’ for a Happy New Year

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So here I am again, late December contemplating the year ahead. I have decided that New Years Resolutions are actually just bullshit. Romantic, fairy- dust coated goals spewed out from positive little mouths right after Christmas when the world is magical and we are feeling fat and remorseful. The very idea of committing to rectify ‘wrongs’ that you will inevitably fail at doing because you’ll forget what they were by January 2nd- is just ludicrous. Yes, and maybe because I have failed to resolve any of mine from last year I have decided to move the goal posts for this little new years game. Rather than dwell on what I need to change next year in a measurable goal typed manner, I’ve decided to wait until the year has already happened to write my ‘Old Year Reminders’ and carry these through to the next year. No risk of failure this way so here they are…

1. Do not make plans to meet up with people the day after you have planned ‘Dinner and a few drinks’. As going out is more rare an occasion than Christmas itself, dinner and drinks will certainly end in you hugging your porcelain friend for most of the next day. Having your son come in for a quick look  while you’re vomiting does in fact make you as bad as the man from the responsible alcohol commercials.

2. When you say to yourself ‘oh, I’ll just pop into the shops and grab some milk’, look at your sweet little boys and remember, it can only be milk that you are getting. Do not get over confident and start thinking you can just grab body wash, bread and cheese while you are there too. Remember that if you try to push the shopping trip 30 seconds past the suggested child shopping  limits that the angelic sweet looking boys will become animals. Loud, crying, screaming animals that cannot even be contained by the offer of a Chuppa Chup.

3. Relationships that are good and healthy are reciprocal. Good people are those who are still sitting besides you when there is nothing left to take, and nothing left to gain by being with you .They sit with you because they just couldn’t bare to be anywhere else. No one is keeping score- and if they are,  it’s only so they can lend you some points when you need them.

4. Holidays just aren’t holidays any more. It doesn’t matter how lovely it all sounds when you book it in, the children will not sleep, they will become ill, you will fight with your husband and resent every additional second of sleep that they receive that you don’t and you will return needing a holiday to recover from your holiday. The children will not look as happy as they do on the brochure and you will generally have to put up with at least two hours of torture while you travel to your destination. It is okay that your favourite holiday destination has become your own bed. Invest in a good mattress topper and sheet set and really ‘live it up’.

5. Don’t ever look at your phone and ignore a call from someone because you can’t be bothered. You have no idea how important that call might be to them. Just pick up, be honest and ask if you can call them back later.

6. None of the good things in my life came about easily. Anything really worthwhile has been and will continue to be hard work.

7. Enjoy the noisy house between 4-7pm. Someday soon there will be nobody home.

8. You will always spend the dollar you were hiding in your purse in preparation for needing a  trolley at Aldi. Just buy a $2 token for your key ring and don’t risk having to line up for 99 hours to buy one before you’ve even started your shopping. (Adelaide readers have all of this excitement ahead of you, remember my wise words.)

9. Deodorant, toothpaste and toilet paper  purchased at the Reject Shop just won’t be the same. It isn’t called the Reject Shop because of its reputation for high quality goods. The deodorant will smell like your uncles pants drawer, the toothpaste will taste like feet and the you’ll be poking more fingers  through the toilet paper than you would a pair of gloves. That is one form of paper you just need to be ‘strong’.

Remember that mistakes are bound to happen in 2015. It is just about how you move forward afterwards.Happy New Year to my friends and family. I hope it is everything you need it to be.

Looks Can Be deceiving…..

Forget Teenagers, are Pushy Pensioners the new rude?

 

Many of us would be familiar with the phrase ‘Respect your Elders’. Well enough is enough, no more Mrs Nice Pants. Up until a few years ago, I was a strict follower of this Golden Rule. But as time unravels, and as I transition toward becoming someone elses ‘elder’ I obey this no longer.

 

You see this silver haired army has created their own version of the get out of jail free card, but amongst themselves it is affectionately known as the ‘Refusal to Wait in Line’ card. In Post offices, Airports, Shopping centres, Doctors surgeries and Toilets all over the world, ‘Elders’ are banding together to disobey International Queuing Conventions. It is power in numbers. Most of us have been a the receiving end of this card, and like me thought ‘ Awwww dear little thing, doesn’t know what’s happening and has gone to the front of the line, someone help them’. Mmm.. Dare I suggest that a large percentage of these happenings, these seemingly accidental oversights were in fact premeditated attempts to ‘push in’. As you may have already picked up from previous blogs and as my husband would tell you, I really hate waiting and am incredibly impatient. It really does evoke a fight or flight reaction where I could seriously injure people who push in.

 

You see my dad has blown the cover of this operation. On many occasions throughout my childhood I can remember him saying ‘I can’t wait to get old, you can do what you want and no one does a thing!, Who’s going to have a punch up with an old bugger like me?’ It wasn’t until waiting in line at a café the other day that I remembered this conversation with dad. It was true…they get away with everything under the guise of being ‘past it’. But Dad who has now excitedly joined this elite, well-travelled group of humans and is more than ‘with it’ is adamant that it is not just him that ‘plays dumb’.

 

Anyway, back to ‘Rude Old Lady’. I was in clear sight of the grey haired offender as she scuttled up to next to me (think little and old, set and blow dry, with dark glasses on, and yes I do believe the glasses were part of her plan). She even started a conversation with me about my children, at which point I thought ‘Oh, how sweet’. Until the attendant came and shouted ‘Who was next?’. Well you should’ve seen the speed and precision that followed as she bowled me over to unashamedly get to the counter There was not a feeble, scuttle insight!!!! What happened to the sweet old lady? Who was this Octogenarian Gladiator before me? From the moment she pushed in all eye contact had ceased. If she didn’t look, she couldn’t be held accountable, and really, as if I was going to be the one to alert everyone to the fact that I ‘knew’ that the 80 year old granny next to me she knew she wasn’t next. Everyone saw, everyone knew and everyone said nothing. Mission completed.

 

 

 

I get a funny feeling that that by the age of 80 you would seriously be thinking ‘I’ve been on earth for long enough to have earned the right to ignore all of the rules’. This also includes being the only person at Christmas dinner who is able to single handedly insult everyone and get away with it. Good one Nanny!

 

To be honest….this is one right of passage is one that I fully intend to take advantage of!

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People watching part 1

I love people watching, it is one of my favourite past times. In the pre- child days I could do it for hours. These days I only get small windows of opportunity in which to sneak a peek, so I like to make the most of it. My favourite of all ‘people watching’ challenges, is to find the people having their ‘first date’ at a restaurant, it is like striking gold. I’m not sure what it is that attracts me to it. Maybe because I always see something so shocking that it validates my own normality or maybe I’m just a nosey bugger. My husband thinks it is definitely because I am a nosey bugger…so I will go with that. Anyway today while sitting at my favourite upper class coffee shop ( Donut King) I saw :

1. A man in his mid forties listening to music through an actual ‘Walkman’. No, not a Discman, I looked very carefully. It was definitely an old cassette playing Walkman, a relic of decades gone by. Firstly, what was he listening too? obviously not something from the top 30! More likely to be something from the era of ‘cassettes’. The last cassette I purchased was Madonna;The Immaculate Collection. Either this guy is an electronic genius who has been able to repair the tapes  after they’ve made the squeaky noise and gotten all tangled up or he has just discovered an old Christmas present that had been left hidden in the wardrobe. 

2. A Whole family walking through the shopping centre with their swimmers on. I realize that living in a coastal area that some would consider this normal, but it is winter and we were at least 10 km’s from the beach. Surely there is a suggested distance from the beach in which wearing swimmers as a replacement for clothing has to be frowned upon. My thoughts are….if you are more than one street away, put your pants on. 

3. Child playing in the indoor playground removing his nappy and inviting his new found friends to have a look. In fact he was so proud of his disappearing pants trick that he then threw it over the fence to share with the rest of the shoppers.

4. The Italian lady in her late thirties who shares a house with her mother three doors down from our house trudging through the shopping centre yelling at her boyfriend again. I would like to suggest that perhaps the fighting would stop if you moved into your own house …Just an idea? 

Oh and yes and I know that you saw us..

End of People watching Part One.

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….and I now really hate the name Cruz!

Today I had one of those very ‘cringe-worthy’ moments where you accidentally overhear another parent say something that you really wish you hadn’t. It was so revoltingly embarrassing that I had to do one of those loud ‘tuts and a head shake.

It went something like this:

Child who had been dragged around the shop for hours being ignored by self indulgent mother decided he would start playing up in the clothes store. It was nothing slap worthy, just boys stuff. She who ‘couldn’t take her eyes away from her iphone even to tell him off’ stops in the middle of the shop and declares at the top of her voice while sorting through more clothes with her back to him:

‘I can sense that you are frustrated Cruz but at the moment you need to control your behaviour. You are making it very difficult for mummy to finish what she is doing. If mummy can’t finish what she is doing then there will be a consequence. Do you want consequences Cruz? Right then you need to think about your behaviour right now and chill out’. 

Oh yeah….that worked! Are you serious lady? The child was not much older than 2…..frustrated? Consequences? What are you on about? I wouldn’t listen to you either if you talked rubbish like that all day! Judging by the way he continued putting dresses over his head so he couldn’t see her…I doubt he understood a thing she was saying either.

One thing that has always really annoyed me as a teacher and as a mum is hearing parents talking to their small children as though they are adults. They are not adults, they have been alive for a pathetic amount of time, I have owned underwear for longer than some of these kiddies have walked the earth. They are so new at ‘being human’ that there are still things that they see for the ‘first time’, every time they leave the house. Some do not even have all of their teeth yet let alone possess moral reasoning skills that probably won’t develop for another 20 years! or in some cases maybe 30.

Yes I am being very Judgemental, and my opinion on this will never change. I am so sick of ‘Text Book’ parents who feel the need to read every parenting book on the market, attend every possible group and join every possible committee known to man in order to feel successful as a parent.There is nothing wrong with a good old fashioned ‘shut the hell up’ or a simple ‘no ‘. The child will not be scarred for life and they will not go on to be lesser citizens because you told them not to do something. They understand ‘simple’ because at this age life is simple.They barely remember the cat’s name…they certainly won’t be holding this against you when they are 21.  It is generally this same group of people who are trying so hard to keep up with the Jones’ they miss the fun part of being a parent…and that is simply just spending time with your children. Listening to them, talking to them and making them feel special. Not having them as an accessory because it was the next thing to do and be ‘successful’ at. You can’t study to have children…it is on the job training.  Stop reading and go with your gut.

And in other news….I now really hate the name ‘Cruz’. I wonder if Cruz’s mum ever practised saying his silly name out loud in public before deciding it was a good choice!  Oh yes…I fancy myself as a Victoria Beckham…why don’t we call him Cruz and in two years we can conference him on his behaviour in the middle of the shops!

Apologies in advance for offending any Cruz lovers out there. 

3 Things That Make Me Laugh@…The Supermarket

My husband and My eldest son (recently and very secretly nicknamed ‘Animal‘) are out for the day, leaving me time to catch up with blog life and time to pay some attention to my youngest son who was recently (and secretly) nicknamed ‘cabbage‘. Why these names? Well  ‘Animal’  because at almost 3 he has become wild tiger. Cabbage, because compared to ‘animal’  he just sits still, and has occasionally been left in other rooms because he sits so quietly in his rocker.

So today I am going to risk offending many and making others leave this Blog feeling as though I am heartless. But the time had come to release my guilty secret about a few things that make me laugh inside, but  probably shouldn’t tell anyone about. As it happens…all of today’s guilty moments occur at the supermarket and as yesterday was shopping day, I was reminded of these annoyingly fabulous events.

The first is one that has made me laugh for years. Such a source of stress for some people yet simplistic pleasure for me.When I’m at the checkout  I love to place my groceries as close as possible to the groceries of the person in front of me and watch the sheer panic as they frantically search for the food divider. It is the ultimate crime, for some the actual thought of your lettuce touching their milk will drive them wild with disbelief. Watch them scurry and feel helpless if they can’t find one, they become agitated and begin to throw confused looks at you, hoping you will realise that it was your responsibility to find the divider before invading their ‘spot’ on the conveyor belt. Try it for yourself and then tell me you didn’t like it.

Secondly, when the line at the checkout is so long (you could have popped home for a coffee and still not have moved an inch) please do not act surprised when it is your turn and you are required to pay. This was not an unexpected request. You have had hours to think about it. This slow shopper then spends an additional five minutes looking for their wallets, much to the disgrace of those behind them in the line. People, you have had a lifetime to prepare for this moment, like moths to a flame, you have seen those who have gone before you, Get your shit together! This one is funny only because it used to be me giving the death stares to the slow people…now with the kids……it is me they are waiting for and I know what they are thinking.

Thirdly, it is common courtesy to inform people ‘as soon as they arrive’ at the deli counter, that they should grab a number. It is also a little bit entertaining to watch as ten other people walk up after them and are served before them, leaving the ‘non-number getter’ 407 th in the line for chicken breast fillets and having mildly violent thoughts towards the  pusher- in- erers. This is only funny because I have been the ‘non-number getter’ a million times and still haven’t learnt my lesson.

Anyway,  my lovely husband and son have just walked through the door….so it is time to resume my other hobby in life ‘Butler/Slave with a  touch of insomnia’.